Leatherface: A Tale of Old Flanders

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  "Are you, too, going to defend her?" retorted the mother fiercely.

  "She was compelled to act as she did," murmured Laurence; "she acted inignorance and innocence. I'd stake my life that she is pure and good."

  "Pure and good!" exclaimed Clemence with a strident laugh. "A spawn ofthe devil, without virtue and without mercy. Oh! that my lips shouldever have touched her lying face--that white forehead which concealedthoughts of falsehood and treachery! Do not defend her, Laurence, oryou will break my heart. Leave her defence to your brother Mark, whocares nothing for his country and for his kindred, who will smile anddrink whilst the walls of Ghent fall about his ears, who hath allowedhis weak and cowardly heart to be captured by that murderess! Leave himto defend her, I say. Lenora de Vargas is worthy of Mark van Rycke!"

  "Mother!" cried Laurence with uncontrolled vehemence as he threw hisarms round his mother's shoulders. "In the name of God stop, for youalmost blaspheme. Speak not of Mark save with a blessing on your lips.Pray for him this night, as you have never prayed before."

  "Laurence," cried the mother, "are you mad? What do you mean? What hashappened to Mark? Where is he?"

  "In his bed, no doubt, at this moment, mother."

  "Sleeping whilst we all weep and pray!"

  "Sleeping in peace whilst giving up life, and more than life, to try andsave us all!" retorted Laurence, as he slowly rose to his feet.

  "Laurence! you are mad! Mark is..."

  "Mark is the friend and saviour of the Prince of Orange, mother dear,"said the young man quietly, "and we have all known him hitherto asLeatherface."

  "It is false!" cried Clemence vehemently.

  "I swear by God that it is true," proclaimed Laurence, fervently.

  The exclamation which she would have uttered froze upon Clemence vanRycke's lips; for a moment she remained quite still, leaning slightlyforward with hands resting upon the arms of the chair. Then a pitiablemoan escaped her, and slowly she rose and then fell upon her knees.

  "Oh God! forgive me," she cried, "if this be true."

  "It is true, mother," said Laurence firmly. "For close on two hoursto-night I sat close to him whilst he spoke. In the absence of thePrince of Orange we have chosen him as our leader; if the Duke of Alvarefuses the proposals which we are going to put before him, Mark willlead us to fight or to death."

  "The proposal! What proposal?"

  "That Leatherface be given up to the tyrant as the price of the safetyof the city."

  "And you--his brother--agreed to this infamous suggestion?" murmuredClemence hoarsely.

  "We must not leave a stone unturned or a man alive to save the women andchildren," replied Laurence sombrely.

  "Then may God have mercy on us all!" cried Clemence, and she fell backheart-broken against the cushions of her chair.

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE TYRANTS

  I

  The next morning, at the tenth hour, five reverend seigniors presentedthemselves before the Duke of Alva, Lieutenant-Governor of the LowCountries and Captain-General of the Forces, in the apartments which heoccupied in Het Spanjaards Kasteel.

  They were Messire Pierre van Overbeque, Vice-Bailiff of Ghent; MessireDeynoot, Procurator-General, and Messire Jan van Migrode, Chief Sheriffof the Keure; then there was Messire Lievin van Deynse, the brewer atthe sign of the "Star of the North," and Baron van Groobendock, chieffinancial adviser on the Town Council.

  They had waited on His Highness at a very early hour, but had been keptwaiting in the guard-room for two hours, without a chair to sit on, andwith a crowd of rough soldiers around them, some of whom were loungingabout on the benches, others playing at cards or dice, whilst all ofthem improved the occasion and whiled away the time by indulging ininsolent jests at the expense of the reverend burghers, who--humiliatedbeyond forbearance and vainly endeavouring to swallow their wrath--didnot dare to complain to the officer in command, lest worse insults beheaped upon them.

  At one hour before noon the seigniors were at last told veryperemptorily that they might present themselves before His Highness.They were marched between a detachment of soldiers through the castleyard to the magnificent apartments in the Meeste-Toren, which at onetime were occupied by the Counts of Flanders. Now the Duke of Alva'ssoldiery and his attendants were in every corridor and every ante-room.They stared with undisguised insolence at the grave seigniors whobelonged to the despised race.

  The Lieutenant-Governor was graciously pleased to receive the burghersin his council-chamber where, seated upon a velvet-covered chair upon anelevated platform and beneath a crimson dais, he looked down upon thesefree citizens of an independent State as if he were indeed possessed ofdivine rights over them all. The officer in command of the smalldetachment which had escorted the deputation into the dreaded presence,now ordered the five seigniors to kneel, and they, who had a petition topresent and an act of mercy to entreat, obeyed with that proud humilitywherewith their fathers had knelt thirty-two years ago in sackcloth andashes before the throne of the Emperor Charles.

  "Your desire, seigniors?" queried the Duke curtly.

  Some of the members of his abominable Grand Council sat around him, onbenches placed well below the level of the platform. Alberic del Riowas there--bland and submissive; President Viglius, General deNoircarmes, and President Hessels--men who were as bitter against Orangeand his followers as was Alva himself--and, sitting a little apart fromthe others, don Juan de Vargas, but recently arrived from Brussels.

  "Your desire, seigniors?" the Duke had questioned peremptorily, andafter a few moments Messire Deynoot, the Procurator-General, who wasspokesman of the deputation, began timidly at first--then gradually moreresolutely.

  "It is with profound grief," he said, "that we became aware last nightthat your Highness' visit to our city was not one of goodwill and amity.Your Highness' severe restrictions upon our citizens and stern measurestaken against them hath filled our hearts with sorrow."

  "Your abominable treachery hath filled our heart with wrath," retortedthe Duke roughly, "and nothing but the clemency enjoined upon us by oursuzerain Lord and King prevented us from reducing this accursed city toashes and putting every one of her citizens to the sword, without givingthem a single chance of retrieving their hellish conduct by surrenderingthemselves unconditionally to our will."

  "It is with the utmost confidence," rejoined the Procurator-Generalhumbly, "that we rely upon the well-known clemency of our suzerain Lordthe King, and place the future of our beautiful city unconditionally inyour Highness' hands."

  "The future of the city is in my hands, Messire," said the Duke dryly,"by the power of our suzerain Lord and with the help of the troops at mycommand. I told you last night under what condition I will spare yourtown from total destruction. I am not in the habit of changing my mindduring the course of one night."

  "Alas, your Highness! but the city is quite unable to fulfil the onecondition which would appease the wrath of our suzerain Lord and yourown."

  "Then," retorted Alva haughtily, "why waste my time and your own inbandying words which must remain purposeless? Either William of Orangeis delivered into my hands, or my soldiers burn your city down at sunsetto-morrow. By our Lady! is that not clear enough?"

  "Clear enough, alas!" rejoined the Procurator-General, and suddenly inhis mind there rose a picture of the tall man last night beneath thedais, of his inspiring words, his whole-hearted sacrifice: his ringingvoice seemed to echo through this narrow room, and some of the wordswhich he spoke knocked at the gates of the grave seignior's memory.

  "Yours will be the harder task," he had said gaily; "you will have tofawn and to cringe, to swallow your wrath and to bend your pride!"Well! God knew that they had done all that: they had swallowed theirwrath and bent their pride before an insolent soldiery, and now theywere fawning and cringing to a tyrant whom they abhorred.

  Ghent! beloved city! once the hom
e of the free! what must thy citizensendure for thy sake?

  And the Procurator-General--the descendant of an hundred free men--hadto lick the dust before Alva's throne. He forced his voice to tones ofhumility, he looked up at the tyrant with eyes full of unspokendevotion.

  "What can we do?" he said timidly, "to prove our loyalty? I entreatyour Magnificence to look down on our helplessness. Orange is no longerin Ghent, and we do not know where to find him."

  "A pretty tale, indeed," interposed de Vargas suddenly, with a stridentlaugh which was echoed obsequiously by the other members round thecouncil board, "a pretty, likely tale, which I trust your Highness willnot think to believe."

  "I neither believe nor disbelieve any tale which these grave seigniorschoose to tell me," rejoined the Duke. "I want Orange--or we burn thiscity down till not a stone in it be left upon stone."

  And Messire Deynoot, whose entire soul rose in revolt against that roughdictate of a hellish tyrant, had perforce to subdue his passionate wrathand to speak with affected humility and unconcern.

  "We had hoped," he said quietly, "that we might offer to your Highnesssuch a proof of our loyalty that you would no longer wish to cast asidea city that hath always hitherto proved staunch and true."

  "What mean you, sirrah? What proofs can you give me now of thisaccursed city's loyalty, when you harbour a veritable army of traitorswithin your walls?"

  "We would wish to prove to your Magnificence that the city itself takesno part in the vagaries and plottings of a few hot-headed malcontents."

  "Hot-headed malcontents, forsooth!" exclaimed the Duke fiercely. "Twothousand men prepared to take up arms against our Suzerain Lord theKing! ... arms concealed in churches and cemeteries! money poured intothe lap of Orange and all his rebels!"

  "There are more than two thousand men who are prepared to fight and diefor their country and their King," said the Fleming suavely, "and whoare equally ready to pour money into the coffers of their Liege Lord, asrepresented by His Highness Ferdinand Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva,and by the reverend members of his Council."

  This he had said very slowly and with marked emphasis, and even while hespoke he had the satisfaction of seeing more than one pair of eyes roundthat Council board gloating with delight at the vision of treasure andwealth which his words had called forth. He and his colleagues had longafter the assembly of last night discussed between them this oneproposal, which might, they hoped, tempt the cupidity of the Spaniards,which they knew to be boundless. They were wealthy men all of them--thetown was wealthy beyond the dreams of Alva's avarice, and the five menwho had been deputed to offer up a brave man's life as the price of acity's safety, had resolved to sacrifice their last stiver, and keep thehero in their midst.

  But Alva, with a sneer, had already destroyed all the fond hopes whichhad been built upon that resolve.

  "If you offered me every treasure--to the last gulden--contained in yourcity," he said, with emphasis no less strongly marked than had been theother man's offer, "I would not deny myself the pleasure of razing thisabominable nest of rebels to the ground. Why should I," he added with acynical shrug of the shoulders, "take from you as a bribe what mysoldiers can get for me by the might of fire and sword? Orange alonewould tempt me, for I would wish to have him alive--we might kill him byaccident when we destroy the town."

  "We can collect two million gulden in gold," said Messire Deynootinsinuatingly, "and lay that sum at the feet of your Magnificenceto-morrow."

  "Ah?" said the Duke blandly, "then I am greatly relieved that so muchmoney can be got voluntarily out of this city. Your words, Messire, arehoney to mine ears; they prove, beyond a doubt, that if you can raisetwo million gulden in forty-eight hours my soldiers can put up ten timesthat amount in a two days' sacking of this town."

  "The money voluntarily offered, Monseigneur," here interposed theVice-Bailiff, "would shame neither the giver nor the receiver. Thedestruction of a free and loyal city would be an eternal disgrace uponthe might of Spain."

  "Spare me thy heroics, sirrah!" quoth Alva fiercely, "or I'll have thatimpudent tongue of thine cut out before nightfall."

  And once more the burghers had to bend their pride before the appallingarrogance of their tyrant.

  "Begone now!" added the Lieutenant-Governor peremptorily, seeing thatthe Flemings were silent for the moment. "The business of the Statecannot be held up by such profitless talk. And if you have nothingbetter to offer to our Gracious King than money which is already his,why, then, you are wasting my time, and had best go back to those whosent you."

  "No one sent us, Monseigneur," resumed the Procurator-General, with asmuch dignity as he could command, even though his back ached and hisknees were painfully cramped. "We are free burghers of the city ofGhent, which, alas! hath earned your Highness' displeasure. We haveoffered of our treasure so as to testify to our loyalty ... but thisoffer your Magnificence hath thought fit to refuse. At the same time weare not at the end of our resources or of our protestations of loyalty.We have yet another offer to place before your Highness which, perhaps,may be more agreeable in your sight."

  "And what is that offer, sirrah? Be quick about it, as my patience, ofa truth, is at the end of its resources."

  The Procurator-General did not make immediate reply. Truly he wasscrewing up his determination for the terrible ordeal which was beforehim. He hung his head, and, despite his fortitude--probably because ofweakness following on fatigue--he felt that tears gathered in his eyes,and he feared that his voice now as he spoke would become unsteady. Theothers, too, kept their eyes fixed to the ground. They could not bearto look on one another, at this moment when they were about to offer upso brave and gallant a life in sacrifice for their city and for all thetownsfolk. Indeed, Messire Deynoot ere he spoke forced his mind todwell upon all the horrors of Mons and Valenciennes and Mechlin, uponall the women and children, the feeble and the old, his own wife, hisdaughters and his mother, so as to gather courage for the task which hadbeen imposed upon him.

  Thus there was silence for a minute or so in this narrow room, whereinthe close velvet draperies made the air heavy, so that the number of menhere assembled--Spaniards and Flemings and soldiers--felt as if an awfulload was weighing their senses down. Councillor Hessels, as was hiswont, had fallen asleep. He woke up in the oppressive silence in orderto murmur drowsily: "To the gallows with them all!" Alva sat sullen andwrathful, looking down with contempt and scorn on the kneeling burghersbefore him. De Vargas, now and again, turned anxious, furtive eyes towhere a rich portiere of damask-velvet hid a door in the panelling ofthe wall. Even now it seemed as if that portiere stirred--as if anunseen hand was grasping it with a febrile nervous clutch--it seemed, infact, as if some one lived and breathed there behind the curtain, and asif all that was said and would be said in the room would find its echoin a palpitating heart.

  II

  Anon the Duke of Alva's impatience broke its bounds: "An you'll notspeak, sirrah," he cried, "get you gone! Get you gone, I say, ere Iorder my lacqueys to throw you out of my house."

  "Your pardon, Monseigneur," said Messire Deynoot with sudden resolution,"I but paused in order to choose the words which might best please yourears. The offer which I am about to make to your Highness is in thename of all the citizens of Ghent, and I feel confident that yourHighness will gladly acknowledge that no greater mark of loyalty couldbe offered by any town to our suzerain Lord the King."

  "Speak!" commanded Alva.

  "Next to the Prince of Orange himself," said the Procurator-Generaltimidly, "is there not a man who hath gravely incurred your Highness'displeasure, but who hath hitherto evaded the punishment which yourHighness would no doubt mete out to him?"

  "Yes; there is!" replied the Duke curtly. "A man who chooses to wraphimself up in a mantle of mystery; a spy of Orange--a rebel and traitorto the King. There is such a man, sirrah! He hath several timesthwarted my projects with regard to Orange. If, as you say, Oran
ge isnot in Ghent then hath that man had a hand in helping him to get away.Well! what of that man, sirrah? I want him. He is called Leatherfaceby my soldiers. What of him, I say?"

  "Leatherface is in Ghent, Monseigneur," murmured Deynoot, scarce abovehis breath.

  "Come! that's good! Then will our booty be even richer than wethought."

  "Leatherface is in Ghent, Monseigneur," continued Deynoot, moresteadily. "But he is an elusive creature. Mysterious agencies are atwork, so they say, to enable him to escape the many traps that are setfor him. He swims like a fish, and climbs like an ape. He entered thecity last night, an hour after all the gates had been closed. In theterrible confusion which will attend the destruction of our city, hewould escape again.... But just now he is in Ghent, and..."

  "And you will deliver him over to me," broke in Alva with a harsh laugh,"if I will spare your city?"

  The Procurator-General nodded his head in reply. His lips refused himservice for that awful, that irreparable "Yes!" The five men now nolonger hung their heads. White as the linen ruffles round their throats,they were gazing straight into the face of the tyrant, trying to readthe innermost thoughts of that inhuman devil, who held the destiny oftheir city--or of a brave man--in the hollow of his claw-like hands.

  Alva pondered; and while he did so his prominent, heavy-lidded eyessought those of his colleagues no less inhuman, more devilish mayhap,than himself. And from behind the heavy portiere there seemed to come along drawn-out sigh, like some poor creature in pain. De Vargasfrowned, and a muttered curse escaped his lips.